


Wind Up the Clock, Set It Aflame

by renmyuai



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot, Smut, god I hate adding porn tags, makes me blush more than writing the damn thing, this is what I like to call 'the exact opposite of slow burn'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 17:10:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13862178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renmyuai/pseuds/renmyuai
Summary: It took three months for them to share their first kiss. And it took them three months and a few minutes to go further.





	Wind Up the Clock, Set It Aflame

**Author's Note:**

> hey look, I finally wrote something. ain't that neat? better post it before I hate it-

When Camus had asked Ren to be his, he'd felt like he was dreaming. Not 'I've-always-wanted-this' dreaming, rather 'this-came-out-of-nowhere-and-I-don't-know-how-to-respond-to-it' dreaming. But something in his gut made him say yes, and from then on the two began to spend their evenings together.

Nights of confused, awkward silences and nervous small talk slowly morphed into something more comfortable, and three months later they were sat together in Camus' room, sipping their drinks and talking about the work they'd done that day.

"Yeah, the music video's coming along great... we should be finished shooting it tomorrow," Ren mused, "as long as shorty gets his timings right."

"That's good." Camus swirled a spoon through his tea, staring into the soft ripples it left behind. He'd been at this for a while - if he was deep in thought, or just bored, Ren wasn't sure how to tell the difference. It kind of bothered him: you'd think after three months he'd be better at reading the person he'd spent that time with, but it was as if Camus had covered his intentions in shadow. He gave nothing away. Ren sighed.

"Are you okay?" His voice pierced the air, harder than he really meant it to, but regardless Camus paused and looked up at the other man.

"...is there a reason I wouldn't be?"

"Well, maybe not, but..." Ren's eyes glanced around the room a little, almost as if he were physically looking for the right thing to say. Three months of this. Just average conversations. Not quite the behaviour he'd expected, and it was starting to get tiring. It wasn't as if he wanted anything more than that, but-

_Stop lying to yourself._

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ren took a deep swig of coffee. _That_ was the problem here. He hadn't cared at all before, he really hadn't... but when presented with the opportunity for something more, his curiosity got the better of him. It was because Camus had supposedly seen something in him that he was looking for something in return. It was because Camus had asked him to be _his_ that he wanted to know what that really meant. It was because-

"If there isn't a reason, does that mean you're just worried about me because you care?"

_Because you care?_

Ren eyes snapped back to look at Camus, and saw he was looking back at him. Now that his eyes were in clear view, he could see something in them. They shone softly, the twilight seeping in from the window reflected in their surface. They both had blue eyes, but Camus' were lighter, and once Ren might have described them as cold... but right now the word that came to mind was 'gentle'. It wasn't a word he felt usually worked to describe Camus (or the 'real' Camus, since his butler persona was much more approachable) but...

"...maybe." He wanted to leave it at that, but Camus shifted in his seat to look at him head on.

"Why?"

 _You ask like it's so easy to answer,_ Ren thought. He bit at his cheek slightly, a rare onset of anxiety pulling at his mind. _Why?_ He'd tell him if he knew. But he needed to answer, and with a deep breath he broached the subject he had been avoiding for weeks.

"...well, isn't it normal to worry about someone if you're in a..." He hesitated. "...relationship with them? I mean... if that's what this is meant to be...."

The air grew thicker in his lungs at each pause. Aside from when he'd said yes three months ago, they'd never talked about their relationship directly. It felt forbidden, off-limits to reality. Camus answered him anyway.

"You're right. It's just... it caught me off guard."

"It did?"

"Right. You're not usually one to show open concern." The way it was phrased made Ren think that Camus was trying to be nicer than just saying 'you don't usually care'. He chuckled and placed his coffee cup on the table.

"Hope it wasn't too much of a surprise."

"Not at all. It's refreshing."

As he'd moved his own, Ren's had felt his eyes drawn to the butler's hands. Obviously they were in perfect condition - the pale skin of his fingers was smooth and unmarked, and his nails were filed into even, professional ovals. He saw them tapping against the table surface in rhythm, and watched transfixed as Camus shifted them across to rest on his own.

Oh.

They were _warm_ in a way that made Ren's insides crumble. The man was like an ice sculpture in looks, but this first contact was at odds with it all, and Ren suddenly worried that hand might melt away. He shuddered and lifted them to intertwine.

Why had it taken so long for something like this? Why hadn't Camus touched him sooner? Why had he been missing out on this feeling... this _feeling_ of absolute thrill crashing waves in his stomach? It made him angry, or maybe he was sad, or confused or desperate or excited or or or _or-_

"You're frowning."

Camus' unfaltering voice broke the spell again, and Ren looked up again. Those eyes were the same mysterious lakes from earlier, but he thought maybe they were shining slightly more. His hands, his eyes, they were both as flawless as the rest of him - the curvature of his jawline jutting sharp but smoothly, the way his hair fell carefully around his features, the way his lips parted with soft breaths as he leaned in to kiss him...

He leaned in to kiss him. Camus, and then Ren.

Those near-white lips were soft, like powdered snow rather than ice, though much warmer than either. Delicate, fleeting, almost fragile. Ren was conflicted - he wanted to savour it slowly, with the care it perhaps deserved, but as their mouths slid together he felt that sensation of melting again, and he felt like if he didn't hurry this moment would vanish forever. He pushed into Camus with slightly more force, eliciting a quiet, surprised moan. And Camus responded in kind; suddenly, as if something inside him had snapped, he darted his tongue in to graze the roof of Ren's mouth, humming lightly with half-suppressed glee.

He'd expected sweetness, but the more Ren let his tongue wander around Camus' he realised the taste was subdued; less sugar crystals and syrups and more a soft, delicate cream. His eyelids fluttered and at a glance his breath hitched, excitement trapped in his throat like fire.

The look in his lover's eyes, lidded but pupils visible, spoke of so many things. Some things he could put into words - bliss, joy, arousal, desire - but there was a sense of something deeper, a beast of emotion rearing its head for perhaps the first time in Camus' life. Ren felt a tightening coil in his chest, and as he heard his heartbeat pulsing wildly in his ears Camus pushed into him more, lifting a hand to grab at the fabric of his shirt. It made him suddenly aware of how warm he felt, how much better he'd feel if he could tear the stupid thing off. He brought his own hands up to his chest and fiddled hastily with the buttons, moaning with impatience as his trembling fingers slipped awkwardly between each other. He managed the first button eventually, but before he could continue Camus pulled his lips away.

The absence of that warm, gentle mouth against his own made Ren let out a sound not far from a whine, and he paused his tremors to look back into Camus' eyes; they were _electric_ with energy, and before he had a chance to react he felt himself thrown backwards, his back thumping into the neatly folded bed-covers. A finger traced the small patch of chest Ren had exposed, and he shivered softly at the contact. Then Camus traced it lower, his other hand moving in tandem to release button after button from fabric. More and more of Ren's skin could feel the cool evening breeze and yet it barely affected him, the fire in his abdomen writhing around his body like a demon ready to be set free.

After a few moments of this his shirt was fully open, and Ren had to force his breathing to remain steady as Camus' hands ran over him, fingers tracing the outlines of his ribs and resting on his stomach. He felt light-headed. Camus was touching him all over as though he were searching for a hidden switch, something he could tease at to pull his lover open. He found it just above Ren's hipbone - as his finger traced a neat circle, Ren's back arched involuntarily, whining breathlessly at the stimulation. As he wriggled slightly, trying to escape, Camus climbed on to the bed over him, hands steadying himself either side of Ren's head.

He leaned back down into another kiss, but this time Camus was forceful from the offset; his teeth grazed at Ren's lower lip, and he groaned as his mouth was invaded again. It felt absolutely intoxicating, and they both pushed into each other greedily. Ren brought his arms up from his sides to grasp at the buttons on Camus' shirt, and soon enough they were opened as well. He couldn't fully see from this angle, but glancing down at flashes of that snowy skin made Ren groan blissfully, and he wrapped his arms around Camus' back, pulling him down to press their bodies together.

This continued for a few minutes - blind drunk on the thrill - but eventually Camus pulled back up, moving a hand further down. It came to rest with the zipper of Ren's jeans between its fingertips, and his gaze looked Ren up and down with an intensity that made him feel like he was already exposed. It made his face burn, and he wished he could look away. But Ren stared back, laboured breaths accompanying the rise and fall of his chest.

Everything was happening at breakneck speed, as if the act had been planned and practised to perfection; as if ten minutes ago they hadn't been sat in their chairs with ambivalent expressions. Ren's head was swimming. So suddenly, so fast he had caught up on three months of emotion. And it was enough to drive a man mad.

With a smirk, Ren pushed himself up to a sitting position and shook his shirt from his arms. It was slightly damp with sweat, and as he threw it to the floor Camus did the same. The last streams of dusk light pealing through the blinds seemed to cascade off his shoulders, and Ren leaned in to kiss his neck. Camus jumped at the contact, hand moving away sharply to hover by his side. He seemed to freeze for a moment; taking advantage of this, Ren began to bite and suck at the pale skin, trailing down across his collarbone and leaving a string of small marks in his wake. Each movement made Camus tremble under his touch, but glancing up Ren could see the other man had chosen to bite his lip, unwilling to surrender himself.

And now, more than anything, Ren wanted to see that half-stoic expression fall apart at the seams.

But before he could continue his assault, Camus pushed him away again, his back slamming into the mattress with a soft thud. Ren went to protest, but felt fingers quickly scramble to undo his jeans' zip and then slip under the waistband at either side. He was practically defenceless as Camus pulled down, jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. Ren hissed at the stimulation as he sprung free, fully exposed to the evening air. He'd been preoccupied with looking at his lover, but being forced to focus on himself meant he now realised just how _hard_ he felt - and he only felt his stomach tighten more as Camus wrapped one hand around the base, fingers soft yet firm. He could only grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut as Camus smirked down at him, and began to stroke his cock.

The feeling was almost indescribable. Ren's breaths escaped him in hurried, haphazard bursts as Camus toyed with him. He tried desperately not to moan or whine in embarrassment, but sharp squeaks of euphoria fell from his lips as his lover's hand moved steadily. Ren didn't even try to resist anymore. It felt too good. He felt like he was in the clouds, blanketed by softness and flying higher and higher.

Camus simply hovered there, still kneeling, playing with Ren and softly smiling with pride. His fingers rose and fell from tip to base, teasing at every angle, trying to provide as much pleasure as he could. His other hand fell down to grip Ren's thigh, and as his nails dug lightly in he laughed under his breath, relishing in the way the younger man's back arched at every movement. Biting his lip, Camus paced himself faster, grip tightening.

Ren writhed on the bed, stretching an arm down his side to grab a handful of bed-sheets. His moans and whimpers were becoming audible, and he felt himself caring less and less. He wanted to feel better. He wanted to feel _more_.

"... _Camus_..."

His breathless whisper was enough to make the other man freeze in his motions, eyes wide and shoulders trembling. Ren couldn't manage much, but he sharpened his eyebrows and forced the corners of his mouth into a smug grin.

There was nothing else he needed to say.

Almost rolling his eyes with a chuckle, Camus pulled away for a second, bringing his hands down to the clasp of his trousers. Ren didn't bother sitting up, but he glanced down enough to watch as he pulled his clothes away, now equally exposed. Ren somehow felt more embarrassed because of it, but before he had chance to complain Camus had thrown the rest of their clothes off the bed and moved himself into position. He grabbed Ren's wrist and pulled him into a seated position, then slid his hands down to cup his waist. Despite being almost the same height this made Ren feel small, and he shivered under the touch. But he knew what he was supposed to do: breathlessly, he got to his knees and pulled himself up and closer, hovering above Camus' lap. They both stared into each other's eyes now. Their faces were close again but they didn't kiss, instead choosing to just see each other like this, breaths beating each other's cheeks and making their heads swim.

Camus' hands moved behind Ren's back, and the sound of a bottle cap opening signified his actions. Ren tried to brace himself for what was coming and yet he still hissed as Camus slid a finger in to him, the wetness making things less painful, but still an intrusion nonetheless. He whimpered with a growing sense of shame as Camus felt inside him, teasing slightly deeper with each motion. But his heart was singing, and when a second finger was snuck in he moaned the loudest he had yet. Camus felt at him eagerly, fingers twirling and teasing, making sure the job was done properly. He chuckled as Ren shook around his, watching his lover's expression bounce from bliss to pain and back again. A few more seconds and he decided it was enough; pulling his fingers free, he slid his hand down to steady his cock underneath Ren, gazing into him as if to say 'this is your part now'.

Ren knew this, and he wanted it: they hadn't been inside him that long, but once Camus had slipped his fingers away the sensation of emptiness was overwhelming, and he wanted it gone. Shaking, he braced himself with his arms around Camus' shoulders and lowered himself slowly. When he felt the tip rest against his entrance he whined audibly, shrinking in on himself and burying his face in the crook of Camus' neck. He couldn't look at him anymore as he surrendered himself, slipping down further and taking the first half of Camus' cock in with a heavy, muffled moan. Camus didn't go unaffected - his composure broke clean in half, mouth widening with a loud groan and his fingers digging into the base of Ren's spine. They stayed still for a moment, adjusting respectively to the feelings of being given and taken, and then Ren began to move his hips.

Heat coiled in their abdomens with every motion. Ren grunted and whimpered into Camus' neck as he rode him, body shaking with every downwards thrust; likewise, Camus moaned over Ren's shoulder, struggling to remain upright as the movements grew more frantic and haphazard. His cock felt incredible as Ren went from shaking to bouncing, their chests sticking together in the heat of their actions. Camus, unable to stay as he was, pushed the both of them forwards, tumbling back into the bed as a mess of tangled limbs. Ren's legs kicked out behind Camus and wrapped around his back, and he surrendered himself to let the man on top take control.

In the same movement, Camus pushed down and forced both his tongue and his cock inside Ren, groaning with a laboured breath as he filled him. Ren, taking almost all of Camus' length, barely avoided a high squeal, cutting himself off and swirling his own tongue around. Their lips sealed together made all other moans and whines much quieter, and even the sounds of the bed creaking and rustling beneath them, or the shameless sounds of Camus slamming himself into Ren with increasing force, fell away to the loudest sound: the overwhelming beat of their hearts, thudding as one.

Ren let out another muffled gasp as Camus slid a hand back between them and pumped hastily at Ren's cock. But he soon overcame the suddenness, and his blissful moaning continued to heighten in volume, properly audible again through their kiss. Camus responded in much the same way: his thrusts were all the way now, and when he was his furthest in they both convulsed under the pressure. The heat was building to its highest point. A slow, delicate flame in their hearts had become a veritable wildfire of ecstasy, burning out of control and ready to consume them both.

"...Camus..."

"... _Ren..._ "

That was the last coherent thing they could say to each other before they hit the end, but it was all they needed. Suddenly, Ren threw his head back, arching wildly as he let the pleasure take him, and his entire body sunk under the flames as he came, starlight blinking in the corners his vision. His mess sprayed between them, mostly collecting on his own stomach but not without a few drops clinging to Camus'. As he rode out his own orgasm, his lower half tightened and convulsed around Camus, and almost immediately he succumbed to the blaze as well, buckling down and almost yelling into Ren's shoulder. His own eclipse was just as violent, sparks flying across his skin as he came inside Ren, spilling into him with enough force to keep Ren groaning just a bit longer. They shook together, beads of sweat sliding down their bodies as the tension peaked and then fell, the flames dampening, asphyxiating, and then finally puffing away in a billow of smoke.

* * *

They had lay there for some time, collecting their breath and thoughts, but eventually the pair rearranged themselves to lie beside each other, looking up into the ceiling, too lazy to get dressed again. Their chests fell softer now, composure reformed.

"What time is it?" Camus spoke gently, almost as if he weren't asking Ren specifically.

"...about nine, I think."

"...you should be heading back to your own room. Hijirikawa and Kurosaki will-"

"I don't care." Ren rolled slightly to face Camus, slipping his hand into the other man's and lacing their fingers together. "I want to stay here tonight."

"That's too reckless. Besides, what if someone were to walk in, this very moment?"

"So you weren't being reckless at all, were you?" Teasing, Ren buried himself one last time into the crook of Camus' neck. "I still don't care."

Camus could only sigh, but it was fine. Any other time, Ren's carefree nature would have irked him; right now, it was everything that he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> can't feel my cheeks again, understandable---  
> anyway I hope you enjoyed this!!! <3


End file.
